


What I Do For Rent Money

by CheshireCity



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Begrudging Accomplice Matt, Beyond is flippant, Black Humor, Dark Humor, Deception, Gen, Implied Matt/Mello (Death Note), Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Matt is 200 percent done, Mental Coercion, Murder, Other, Romantic Friendship, Snark, Thanksgiving break with the mafia, college stress, strangely domestic, terrible roommate, the realities of having a roommate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:13:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9817601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCity/pseuds/CheshireCity
Summary: Matt just wants to get through college and be done with it. He's young and he's near as broke and paying the rent is hard enough. He WOULD kick his roommate out but he simply can't afford it. Of course, his roommate would be a lot easier to live with if he would just stop bringing dead bodies into their dorm.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chocolatemoosey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatemoosey/gifts).



            “Mello, I think I have a big, _big_ problem.”

            Matt sat precariously on the lid of the toilet, limbs pulled off the ground as if the floor was lava. The tub was to his right, shower curtain tugged aside. He tried not to look at it too much. As trembling hands braced against his knees, he cradled his outdated Motorola Razr against his shoulder in an effort not to drop it.

            “Where’d you come from, 2005?” Mello had teased him, cocking a brow as he stared down at his iPhone.

            “It’s _aesthetic_ ,” the redhead had pouted.

            “It’s lame is what it is,” Mello condescended. “Come back to this decade.”

            Matt had scoffed in turn, insisting that it was an essential part of his cool vibe. But being cool was the last thing he cared about presently.

            “How bad could it be?” Mello sighed disinterestedly from across the line.

            “ _Really_ bad, Mel,” Matt whispered hysterically, voice cracking.

            “Did you finally get caught for torrenting all those movies?” the blond laughed. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

            “Mello you’re the _king_ of bad ideas!” Matt shot back indignantly.

            “I’m the king of having a good time,” Mello scoffed. “Seriously, why _do_ you only smoke cigs at my parties?”

            “Mello this is hardly the time to be peer pressuring me,” Matt hissed. “I have a serious problem with real life consequences here.”

            “Alright, alright,” Mello sighed, sounding more serious. “What’s going on, Matt?”

            “There is something in my bathtub.”

            “O…kay…?”

            “And it is definitely _not_ supposed to be there.”

            “What, did I leave my bag over there the last time I slept in the tub?” Mello mused.

            “No, Mel. It’s a little more serious than a tupperware of weed brownies.”

            “Alright, so what?” the blond huffed. “Spit it out already.”

            “There’s a body in there, Mel. A dead, _human_ body.”

            “I’m hanging up.”

            “NO WAIT MELLO NO!” Matt cried, careful to keep his voice down.

            “You’re fucking with me,” Mello deadpanned. “This is some sort of Halloween prank, isn’t it?”

            “I’m not fucking with you,” Matt pleaded. “I really fucking wish I was. But it’s… ugh, Mello it’s so bloody and creepy and the eyes are open and all glassy and… I’m gonna throw up. Again.”

            “Gross, Matt,” the blond audibly grimaced. “Get a grip.”

            “ _Get a grip_!?” Matt echoed incredulously. “Mello there is a _real dead body_ in my _freaking bathtub._ This is not something to take calmly! What the fuck do I do? Call the police? It’s in my freaking apartment! That’s kinda incriminating. I don’t want to be the focus of a homicide case: I just wanna finish my senior year in peace and get the fuck out of college and start being miserable trying to pay off all my student debts.”

            “And you think hacking it up and burying it is _less_ incriminating?”

            “Oh god,” Matt paled. “What do I do, what do I do?” he whimpered, curling up on the toilet lid. “Come on Mel, you’re good at crime, right?”

            “I don’t think minor shoplifting and being a drug dealer really levels with killing a guy.”

            “Okay but you’re still a criminal.”

            “I’m not sure if I should feel proud or wounded.”

            “Neat,” Matt groaned. “But can we focus here? What the hell do I do?”

            “Well,” Mello hummed, “Have you asked your roommate about it?”

            “Beyond?” Matt squeaked. “Fuck no; the guy’s already pretty creepy.” He lowered his voice substantially as if the psych major was listening in, “I think he’s the one who put it here.”

            “Like he just thought it was neat and grabbed it off the street, or –?”

            “Who just finds bodies on the street!?”

            “I mean you live in the city, so it could have been someone homeless.”

            “No, Mello,” Matt groaned. “This is a college student. I recognize him from our building. He’s that jackass that works – uh, _worked_ – at the pizza place downstairs.”

            “Oh yeah,” Mello sniffed. “I remember him. Oh well, no loss then.”

            “ _MELLO_!”

            “Kidding, kidding,” Mello replied, not sounding like he was at all kidding.

            “Do you _really_ think I should bring it up to B?”

            “Well if it’s his mess, he should be the one to clean it up.”

            “This isn’t the freaking _dishes_!”

            “So?” Mello obviously shrugged. “Same principle, right? No reason for you to get involved in his bullshit just because you live together.”

            “Okay, but Mello,” Matt whined. “What if he gets caught?”

            “Don’t turn him in?”

            “Okay but I don’t want to be an accomplice to murder.”

            “Then _do_ turn him in?”

            “Mello,” the redhead explained. “If B goes, I can’t pay the rent.”

            “Oh.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Well that’s rough, buddy.”

            “Mello!”

            “I mean, I might know a guy that can help…”

            “I’d rather not get your ‘friends’ involved.”

            “Your loss.”

            “Well, I don’t know what other choice I have,” Matt sighed, sending a furtive look to the bathroom’s closed door. “I’m gonna do it: I’m gonna talk to Beyond about this dead dude in our dorm.”

            “Good luck?” Mello offered. “Let me know if you need to go into hiding or something.”

            “Thanks,” Matt returned meekly. “And you better play Queen at my funeral if he kills me in my sleep or something.”

            “Sure, Matt,” the blond assuaged unpromisingly. “Sure.”

            “Well…” Matt exhaled slowly. “Here goes. Talk later… I hope.” With a decisive click, he flipped his phone closed, crawling off of the toilet lid and slipping the mobile into his pocket. He lingered before the tub a moment, staring in queasy disbelief at the body before sliding the curtain the rest of the way closed. He hesitated another minute at the door, releasing a shaky breath as he unlocked it and slipped into the hall. To his relief, Beyond was _not_ waiting with a knife outside preparing to kill him.

            _‘I’m going to have an aneurism every time he’s in the kitchen now,’_ Matt fretted. _‘Last time I ever let him chop the onions.’_

Crossing the small living room he drew short before his roommate’s door. The outside was unassuming, undecorated unlike most of the doors of the other students. Mello’s for instance, had been covered in stick-on rhinestones and printed out Instagram pics, while Matt’s had a few posters taped up in relation to his nerdy interests. But Beyond’s was sterile, belying nothing about his personality. It was just one of the many unsettling things about him, his social isolation notwithstanding.

            Fearfully, Matt knocked on the door in barely audible tones.

            ‘ _Don’t be in, don’t be in,’_ he inwardly begged. _‘Please don’t –‘_

“Come in,” Beyond answered neutrally from the other side.

            _‘Shit.’_

            With a quavering breath, Matt reached for the handle, dreading every step he took. Despite being around noon, the room was dim, thrown into further darkness by the heavy curtains that obscured the fourth floor windows. To one corner was Beyond’s desk, the only real source of light coming from his open laptop. The electronic glow cast eerie shadows across the room, highlighting Beyond from the side and throwing his features into jagged contrast.

            “What’s up?” Beyond hummed, hands working their way into his pockets.

            Matt froze, unable to keep from gawking. “Uhm…” he stammered, feeling every bit like a startled deer.

            “Yes?”

            “You’ve kind of got something on your… uh… everything,” Matt answered vaguely.

            _‘Oh god please don’t let that be blood, don’t let that be –.’_

“Oh,” Beyond nodded, picking at his dirtied shirt casually. “Yeah, that’s blood.”

            “Oh,” was all Matt knew to say. Beyond looked back to him with a strange sort of grin, pulling the stained garment from his bony chest and swapping it out for a clean one.

                “Curious?” Beyond teased, teeth looking unnaturally white against the bloodied canvas of his face.

            “Nope,” Matt returned definitively, looking to the floor as if it would help him unsee what was unfolding before him. “Not at all. That’s your business.”

            “ _Our_ bathtub, though,” Beyond commented pleasantly.

            “Yeah, that was kind of a surpri… oh,” Matt lamented, running a frantic hand through his shaggy hair. “Oh man, yeah you know about that, huh? That was...? Oh boy, oh man.”

            “Not my best work, I must admit,” his roommate sighed in genuine disappointment, easing into a shrug. “But you know what they say: practice makes perfect.”

            “Practice makes…?” Matt echoed disbelievingly.

            “Perfect,” Beyond finished with a serious nod. “I’ll do better next time.”

            “What do you mean ‘next time’?” Matt questioned in a small voice, all too aware of his own questionable mortality. Fear held him rooted to the spot, the door feeling entirely too far away for comfort.

            “You know,” Beyond hummed, either oblivious to or indifferent of Matt’s plight, “Next time. Come over here,” he beckoned, climbing into his computer chair in a peculiar fashion, crouching on the cushion with his knees curled up to his chest.

            Matt hesitated, certain he was walking into a trap but not knowing what more to do. Uncertainly he approached his roommate, watching with morbid interest as Beyond clicked around on his open laptop, pulling up several screens in tandem. The first appeared to be a map of their campus and the surrounding area, predominately taken up by a manmade lake. To the side were three images of different student ID cards, one matching the corpse that resided in their bathtub.

            “Oh god,” Matt whispered, putting the pieces together. “Don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.”

            “I was wondering,” Beyond began indifferently, gesturing at the map. “Where do you think we should put him?”

            “Why would I –!?” Matt began with indignation, pausing on a critical word. “Wait, ‘we’? What do you mean, ‘we’?”

            “Where do you think we should dump Mr. Victim?” Beyond clarified, gnawing on a thumb thoughtfully. “I was thinking nearer to the west bank, just past the golf course here.”

            “No, no, that’s not what I…” Matt broke off, shaking his head hysterically. “What do you mean ‘we’? As in the both of us?”

            “That is generally what ‘we’ specifies,” Beyond blinked, turning to him briefly.

            “And why do you think I want any part of this?” Matt protested.

            “Well,” Beyond returned slowly, “Your first instinct was to come and talk to me rather than inform the authorities. You’re already invested in this matter, aren’t you? I’m merely being considerate here.”

            “Consid… B, you left a _dead body_ in our _bathtub_ ,” Matt pointed out unnecessarily.

            “Well it was that or the kitchen,” Beyond sighed. “I just thought the cleanup would be easier in the bathroom, you know?”

            “You are incredibly nonchalant about all of this!” the redhead squeaked, looking about as if the police would rush onto the scene at any moment. “I mean you… you _did_ murder that guy, didn’t you?”

            “‘Murder’ is such an unpleasant word,” Beyond pouted.

            “ _Murder_ _is unpleasant_!”

            “Well if you say so,” Beyond shrugged.

            “Also, no,” Matt insisted, backing away from the laptop, “I am not invested in this business. Not at all. None. No thank you.”

            “Aren’t you, though?” Beyond cocked his head, and an unsettling look returned to his eyes for the briefest of moments. Matt’s blood ran cold.

            “What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

            “As I said,” Beyond explained, swiveling around to survey his roommate. “You failed to report your findings to the police, or to school personnel for that matter. You spent the better part of a half hour with the body in the bathroom while you talked on the phone, I presume to either Mello or Nathaniel, judging by your habits. Even given the potential dangers of the situation, you refused to remove yourself from the environment or to seek outside help. Rather, you abandoned all forms of common sense and approached the number one person most likely for placing Mr. Victim in the bathtub in the first place. I’m uncertain if your total disregard for personal safety is indicative of a mental or emotional deficit or perhaps if your natural sense of curiosity borders on the morbid. Either way,” Beyond hummed with a disarming smile, “You led yourself straight to me. I anticipate then that you’re willing to continue being compliant in this matter?”

            “I knew you were listening,” Matt whimpered, thinking back to his phone call and the paranoia he had felt about his own likely doom.

            “Incorrect,” Beyond shook his head. “Listening would imply that I heard your conversation word-for-word; rather, I could hear talking but it was indistinct. I afforded you your privacy.”

            “Why?”

            “Because I wanted to see what you would do.”

            “I’m not a psychological experiment,” Matt answered miserably.

            “If you say so.”

            “Also,” Matt sighed in frustration, “Stop psychoanalyzing me.”

            Beyond pulled a face, looking chagrined. “No need to lump me in with someone as insane as Freud,” he frowned.

            “As insane as…?” Matt trailed off, feeling the sentiment was entirely wasted. “Still,” he pressed, somewhat emboldened by his current living status. “Why do you assume that I want anything to do with this? I’d rather just go back to my room and forget this ever happened. I mean, this isn’t exactly how I planned on spending my Friday night. You know what I like doing on Friday nights, B? I like pretending I don’t have two essays to write by next week and playing COD all evening while stuffing my face full of pizza. Pizza from the corner market. You know, the kind that the dead guy in our bathroom used to sell. So you just do whatever it is you need to do or whatever and I’ll just be across the hall and not involving myself in federal crimes.”

            “A bit too late for that, isn’t it?” Beyond hummed unsympathetically.

            “What?”

            “You know the whereabouts of a murdered person and you know with certainty who the murderer is and you are still doing nothing about it,” Beyond pointed out. “At the very least you are ‘aiding and abetting’.”

            “Super,” Matt groaned, balling his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Okay, I guess you’re right there. But I, uh…” he paused, looking his roommate over uncertainly.

            “You’re worried that I’ll off you for noncompliance?” Beyond finished for him.

            “Er… won’t you?”

            “Undecided,” Beyond returned lightly.

            “Oh,” Matt muttered, heart fluttering at his throat. “That’s nice. Undecided. So that’s what? Like a maybe? Like a pencil it in for later?”

            “That’s up to you, Matt,” Beyond chuckled, turning back to his computer. “Play your cards right and I’ll have no reason to kill you.”

            “And tell me, exactly, how do I manage that?”

            “Well,” Beyond smiled, circling a region of the map with his cursor, “Don’t get in my way and we won’t have any problems, right?”

            “And if I refuse to play nice?”

            “Well, you do want to make our monthly rent payments, right?”

            Matt stiffened, thoroughly caught. “Uh,” he stammered guiltily.

            “I believe I was the last one to buy groceries?” Beyond mused.

            “I bought groceries…”

            “Funyuns are _not_ groceries.”

            “I’ll get it next time?”

            “With what money, Matt?”

            “Uh…”

            “So,” Beyond redirected cheerfully, “Do you own any black clothing?”

            “Uh?”

            “Tonight we’re burying a body.”

* * *

            “I cannot believe we are burying a body,” Matt groaned some five hours later. Night had set around them, cloaking the lakeshore in inky darkness. The lights of cars could be seen streaking by beyond the tree line, a stiff coastal breeze making the pair shiver into the necks of their coats.

            “It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Beyond spoke up, bent over a completely conspicuous cardboard box. Matt hadn’t seen the process, but he knew without looking that the body was stuffed within it, probably bent into some sort of horrendous contortion of limbs. At least he finally knew what the dolly was for that his roommate kept by his desk.

            “‘Exciting’ isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe this,” Matt wrinkled his nose. Blood was singing through his veins, adrenaline keeping him alert and paranoid. Beyond had laughed about it on the drive over, the corpse wedged in the backseat like some sort of macabre jack-in-the-box.

            “You never do anything fun, do you?” he had teased, turning into the parking lot for the preserve and adjunct golf course.

            “ _Fun_?” Matt had stressed, toying with gloves he had resigned to burning later.

            “Yes,” Beyond returned brightly. “Fun. You know, something outside of your comfort zone? It’s not like you’re going to be caught, you know.”

            “Okay,” Matt had protested, clambering out of the vehicle and nearly tripping over himself in his nervous haste, “First, ‘outside of my comfort zone’ is a severe understatement. Second,” he continued, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper, “This is _murder_ we’re talking about here. I just want a simple life, B. I just want to graduate and have a boring office job or whatever that I will totally hate and then to maybe get married one day and have kids and then die in complete anonymity at a nice old age. That’s all. Not to be wound up in a murder plot. Also, how can you say that we won’t be caught? This isn’t… I don’t know… like lifting candy from the grocery store? You killed a person, B. A human being.”

            “That’s generally the point,” his roommate laughed, hefting the box from the backseat and scooting it unceremoniously across the gravel lot.

            “Yeah, well the funny thing about people is that they tend to have families,” Matt pressed. “And those families tend to notice when their loved ones go missing.”

            “Well, yes,” Beyond leveled, approaching the edge of the preserve. “Otherwise the police wouldn’t get involved. And if they didn’t get involved then their best detectives wouldn’t get involved. And without that, what fun would there be?”

            “I don’t get you,” Matt exhaled, running a hand over his face. “And I don’t want to.”

            Beyond straightened, staring at his companion expectantly and snapping Matt from his reverie. “Are you ready?” he asked, throwing a shovel in his roommate’s direction. Matt caught it with some difficulty, feeling the damning weight of the tool in his hands. He could just knock Beyond out cold, he figured. All it would take was one good swing and a well-aimed strike to the back of the head. Then he could take the keys and run back to the car and go to the police and everything would be all over.

            _‘And then I would be homeless,’_ he reminded himself regretfully. _‘And then I’d have no way of completing school. And then I’d run out of forbearance on my loans and have no means of repaying them. Fuck me.’_

He eyed Beyond warily, knowing he had little other choice. _‘Crossing a murderer is probably not the best idea,’_ he tried to justify to himself. _‘I kinda like being alive.’_

            “Okay,” he sighed aloud, “I’m ready.”

            “Good,” Beyond flashed a smile. “Now follow my lead,” he instructed, striking into the soft earth with a shovel of his own and ploughing away dirt with practiced ease.

            “You’re uh,” Matt began awkwardly, following suit. “You’re pretty good at digging graves?”

            “Is that a compliment?” Beyond joked.

            “Is it?”

            “I think so,” Beyond nodded cheerfully.

            “So, uh,” Matt pressed. “I really don’t want to know the answer but _how_ are you so good at digging graves?”

            “Practice.”

            “Practice?”

            “Makes perfect,” Beyond finished seriously.

            “So you’ve said,” Matt surmised, feeling sick. “So uh… this is…?”

            “Number three,” Beyond answered knowingly. “As I showed you earlier on my computer.”

            “That’s what I thought,” Matt sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Please don’t tell me about them.”

            “Oh, don’t worry,” Beyond returned brightly, “I’ll find a way to make up for it.”

            “Please don’t.”

            “Almost done,” Beyond encouraged, nudging over a loose rock with a toe. “There, that’ll about do it.”

            “Isn’t this kind of, I don’t know,” Matt frowned, looking at their work uncertainly, “Kind of shallow?”

            “Yes,” Beyond nodded, lugging the box over to the graveside. Matt paled and turned away, staring hard up at the night sky as his roommate made the final arrangements.

            “It’s because you want them to be found?” Matt concluded. “Because that’s… fun for you? And that’s why you don’t just do something easier, right? Like dumping them in the lake? I mean, it has an outlet to the sea and everything. That’d be a lot more convenient, right?”

            “Ah,” Beyond smiled, clapping a hand to Matt’s shoulder and making him jump, “You’re finally starting to understand me.”

            “Goodie,” Matt lamented, shooting his roommate a chagrinned look. “Just promise not to do this again?”

            “Oh, I promise,” Beyond nodded earnestly. “I swear on my own family.”

* * *

          “ _BEYOND!_ ” Matt yelled not two weeks later.

            Beyond rounded the corner, up to his elbows in yellow rubber gloves, wide eyed with a bucket full of bleach in one hand. “Yes?” he asked innocently, as if there was not a rather dead person splayed out on the kitchen floor.

            Matt made a pained noise, gesticulating wildly to the corpse. “What is _that_?”

            “That would be a person,” Beyond answered frankly. “Or, at least, it used to be. Now it is a slowly decomposing body, I presume.”

            “ _What is it doing in our kitchen?”_

            “Chiefly I imagine it’s being dead,” Beyond returned.

            “ _That was not the question and you know it.”_

“My, you’re awfully lippy for someone dealing with a known serial killer.”

            “I thought you swore you wouldn’t do this again?” Matt scolded, as if talking to a small child and not the murderer of four.

            “If I remember correctly,” Beyond pointed out, “I made that promise on the lives of my family, and to level with you, my family is all dead.”

            “Of course they are.”

            “Well that’s a little insensitive, don’t you think?”

            “Insensitive?” Matt squeaked, shoving his hands at the spread eagled body. “Who are you to talk about what’s insensitive?”

            “I do have feelings, you know,” Beyond hummed.

            Matt squinted at him in disbelief. “Clean this up,” he ordered, entirely too tired to deal with more of his roommate’s homicidal shenanigans. “I want to make some mac and cheese.”

            “I’m afraid you’ll have to cancel your dinner plans,” Beyond countered, poking at the corpse with a toe. “We’ll have to bury him.”

            “ _We_?” Matt echoed. “Oh no, not this again.”

            “Don’t you need the rent money?” Beyond asked innocently.

            “This is emotional blackmail and you know it,” Matt hissed.

            “This is an exchange of goods and services,” Beyond argued lightly. “I help house us and you help me with my projects.”

            “You know, I’m not even going to question your phraseology there.”

            “Pencil this in for around seven o’clock?” Beyond prodded. “The sun should have set by then.”

            “No can do,” Matt returned, vaguely relieved. “I’ve got my night class then, remember? I’m not skipping.”

            “You would skip to go smoke with Mello,” Beyond pouted.

            “Mello also isn’t trying to implicate me in murder.”

            “He commits crimes,” Beyond pressed.

            “Good for him; I smoke cigarettes and let him mind his own business.”

            “This is kind of the same thing,” Beyond shrugged. “I kill people and bury them and you join me and mind your own business.”

            “My schedule is full for tonight,” Matt returned flatly, already stalking back to his room.

            “I’ll be taking your car,” Beyond called after him cheerfully.

            “WHAT?” Matt reeled around, aggrieved. “No you will _not_. One, I kind of need that to get to class, and two, _we are not stuffing more corpses into my Toyota._ The damn thing is already a crime scene; we don’t need to make it worse.”

            Beyond sighed sadly, looking down to the incredibly dead man on their kitchen floor. “I don’t suppose I can take him on the bus, do you?”

            Matt blanched an impressive shade of white, bashing his face into his palms. “For the love of god do not do that,” he grit out in horror. He could only imagine a very macabre Weekend at Bernie’s style scene playing out before him. “Looks like I’ll be walking tonight,” he stated grimly. “My keys are by the front door.”

* * *

          Matt made sure to enjoy the week of his Thanksgiving break. There was always a little voice in the back of his head that suggested that it may be his last ever Thanksgiving break, but he liked to drown that voice out with more turkey and red wine.

            “Wow, Mello,” he praised, scooping excessive amounts of food onto his plate. “These potatoes are really good.”

            “I got them out of a bag,” the blond deadpanned, pushing around his stuffing with a fork.

            “Mel’s a real genius in the kitchen,” a bald-headed man spoke up from the head of the table, expression heavy set and ominous.

            “You flatter, Rod,” Mello hummed, quirking a smile. He turned in his seat to better face Matt, abandoning his food altogether. “I was surprised that you were joining us this year,” he prompted, voice laden with pointed interest, “Especially after insisting that you had plans?”

            Matt cast a wary glance to Rod – who he was certain had some sort of connection to the mafia – and to the other rather sketchy individuals seated around the table. There were fourteen of them altogether, not including himself and Mello, and they were, as a collective whole, the ‘friends’ that he often sought to avoid.

            “Yeah, I figured this was a safer bet,” he answered with laden insinuation.

            Mello cocked a brow. “‘Safer’, huh?” he repeated, catching on quickly. “Things going that badly?”

            “Need a place to lay low for a while?” another man – Glen, Matt was pretty sure he was called – quipped.

            “Uh,” the redhead faltered, looking to his best friend desperately. “I’m good, thanks though.”

            “Matt’s just having roommate trouble,” Mello announced candidly.

            “What’s his deal?” a third man – Rashual – asked in gravelly tones.

            “He, uh,” Matt parsed carefully. “He leaves… messes… everywhere. And, uh, he usually tries to get me to help clean them up.”

            Mello’s brows rose substantially, burying his knowing look into the depths of his glass.

            “Sounds like a real fuck,” Glen frowned seriously. “A man’s got to take care of his own shit.”

            “You should teach him a lesson, you know?” Rod agreed enthusiastically. “I mean, you could always start with –.”

            “You know what this wine needs?” Mello spoke up quickly. “Chocolate. Matt, why don’t you help me look for some, huh?”

            “Yeah, wow,” Matt bolted upright at once. “Sounds good. Should be in your room, right?”

            The pair excused themselves from the table hastily, met with confused stares that slowly disintegrated back into talks of how some group of ‘punks’ had ‘messed with the wrong dudes’. Mello chuckled as they slipped from sight, taking Matt’s hand and leading him through the building. It was as much a mansion as it was a compound, an obvious bastion of shady dealings. Matt had been there plenty of times before, as uncomfortable as it made him. Still, Mello had assured him that he would always be safe there and he was growing less and less convinced that his own dorm was a good place to hang out.

            “What’s going on, Matt?” Mello asked breathlessly as they entered his room. It was plush and full of gaudy amounts of leopard print and religious paraphernalia, but it was distinctly Mello and it made Matt instantly feel at ease.

            “Beyond is a god damn nightmare,” he breathed, plopping down onto the bed and pulling a pillow to his face. It smelled faintly of Mello’s cologne, only furthering his sense of comfort.

            “So he’s making more ‘messes’?” Mello repeated, torn between amazement and amusement. He nudged Matt aside, curling up beside him on the bed. “So he really did kill that guy?”

            “Mel, rando dead people rarely show up in your bathroom by mistake,” Matt stressed, only to be met with a shrug. “Okay, maybe they do around _here_ ,” he corrected, lowering his voice as if he’d be overheard at any moment. “But for normal people that is just not a thing.”

            “So, what’s the damage like?” the blond pressed. “You shut up real quick about the whole situation after that phone call on Halloween. It’s been almost a month now; you can spill.”

            “Well, it’s not like he would know if I told you in person,” Matt sighed, quickly relaying the events of the past few weeks.

            “You should let one of my guys do a deep clean on your car,” Mello suggested. “Should be fine seeing as you’re a friend of mine.”

            “I mean, seeing as it _is_ here,” Matt relented. “Might as well.”

            “I can’t believe you’re officially a criminal now,” Mello returned playfully.

            “Don’t sound so excited,” the other scowled, scrubbing at his face anxiously. “This is _not_ a good thing.”

            “Well he’s kind of got you over the proverbial barrel,” Mello pointed out. “I think the least – or even the _most_ – you can do at this point is make some light of the situation.”

            “That’s not the end of it, either,” Matt frowned, searching his pockets for his phone. Flipping through his texts, he passed the device off to his best friend, watching as he poured over the contents.

 

**[4:50 PM] Beyond:** Matt, guess what? I made a new high score today!

**[4:51 PM] Matt:** that had better be on wii sports

**[4:53 PM] Beyond:** Matt, we do not own a Wii.

**[4:53 PM] Beyond:** Matt, that is not the game I was meaning.

**[4:53 PM] Beyond:** Matt, you are perfectly aware of what game I am talking about.

**[4:56 PM] Matt:** u kno u dont have to put my name in front of every txt

**[4:56 PM] Matt:** yes i know what game u mean

**[4:58 PM] Beyond:** You know that you don’t have to use abbreviations over text?

**[4:59 PM] Matt:** u kno that i dont care???

**[5:01 PM] Beyond:** I find your use of punctuation upsetting in relation to your refusal to capitalize letters.

**[5:02 PM] Beyond:** Also, I feel you are being rude.

**[5:04 PM] Matt:** wow??? that is??? fascinating???

**[5:05 PM] Beyond:** You are doing this deliberately, aren’t you?

**[5:05 PM] Beyond:** When are you coming back from Mello’s place?

**[5:06 PM] Beyond:** I need assistance with my project.

**[5:10 PM] Matt:** i thought it was a game???

**[5:11 PM] Beyond:** Is there a reason you always use three question marks?

**[5:17 PM] Matt:** no???

**[5:18 PM] Beyond:** You are getting distracted, aren’t you?

**[5:18 PM] Beyond:** I can tell because it is taking longer for you to get back to me.

**[5:18 PM] Beyond:** Perhaps you have imbibed in one of Mello’s ‘interests’?

**[5:18 PM] Beyond:** I am going to need you to be completely clear-headed, Matt.

**[5:18 PM] Beyond:** Matt, this lack of response is perturbing.

**[5:19 PM] Beyond:** You are getting ‘involved’ with Mello, aren’t you?

**[5:28 PM] Matt:** if by involved u mean sex then totally yeah i am having all the sex w/ mello

**[5:28 PM] Matt:** right now as we speak

**[5:28 PM] Beyond:** I feel you are being insincere. We need to talk about plans.

**[5:33 PM] Matt:** my dude i am on vacay and i want to enjoy it n u can do whatever crazy bullshit u enjoy but i just want to eat turkey in peace

**[5:33 PM] Beyond:** Matt, I believe we need to have a conversation about priorities.

**[5:39 PM] Matt:** well right now my priorities r eating turkey n sleeping so good luck w/ that c u when i get back

**[5:39 PM] Beyond:** So you’ll help me then?

**[5:47 PM] Matt:** dude wat thats like four days from now u r not keeping THAT around that long just no

**[5:47 PM] Beyond:** I see that you reserve your capitalization for emphasis. Truly, you make for a fascinating linguistic study.

**[5:53 PM] Matt:** no dude im just lazy as balls

**[5:53 PM] Matt:** plz dont leave that in the house

**[5:55 PM] Matt:** ill do the dishes

**[5:55 PM] Beyond:** Then we have a deal! :)

 

            “Did you just bribe a serial killer with household chores?” Mello asked in disbelief, handing the phone back over to Matt.

            “It is way more likely than you think,” the redhead exhaled, wriggling closer. “He seems to really hate being tidy, save of course for when he’s covering up his tracks. Doesn’t give a shit if he makes a mess in the meanwhile. I swear if anyone ever holds a black light party in our dorm they’re going to be in for a real shock.”

            “You know he seemed to be really distraught by the potential that you were fucking me,” Mello added with a predatory grin.

            “Yeah, seemed like the one thing that got him to stop harassing me for half a minute,” Matt mused, entirely alright with where things were going.

            “Yeah, but you didn’t sell it, though,” Mello counseled. “Nothing a few pics couldn’t fix.”

            “Is it Sloppy Makeouts With Mello Time?” Matt asked eagerly. The blond laughed, already reaching for the phone as he dragged his best friend nearer.

* * *

          “I cannot believe that you sent me photographs of your sloppy makeouts,” Beyond sighed from the kitchen table. He was nursing an entire jar of strawberry preserves, one of the only things he stocked his half of the kitchen with.

            “I told you I was busy,” Matt returned unapologetically.

            “Apparently,” Beyond replied with what was almost a scowl. It was the first Monday back to school after Thanksgiving break and clearly neither of them were in the best of moods.

            “You _did_ take care of it, right?” Matt pressed, pawing through the disorganized cupboards to find a clean plate.

            “The body, you mean?”

            “Yes, the body,” Matt groaned, allowing himself an eye roll that his roommate couldn’t see. “What else?”

            “Well you could have meant the trash or something,” Beyond offered sulkily. “If I properly recall you were relatively steamed the last time you left and I forgot to take care of it.”

            “…Did you take out the trash?” Matt asked after a beat.

            “For once.”

            Matt sighed, still in disbelief that talks of murder were becoming as mundane as talks of household chores. “Thank you for taking out the garbage,” he forced himself to say.

            “You’re welcome,” Beyond returned, some of his usual eerie excitability returning. Matt could feel his eyes on him as he moved about the kitchen, setting down his plate and turning to the fridge. Thoughtlessly, he opened the lower door.

            “AUGH!” he yelled, jumping back immediately. “BEYOND WHAT THE FUCK!?” he followed with, bending over and clutching at his chest.

            “Is there a problem, Matt?” the other asked casually, punctuated by the obscene sound of his fingers reaching around the jar of jelly.

            “ _Is there a problem?_ ” Matt repeated incredulously. “I thought you took care of this, not stuffed it in our fridge!”

            “To be fair, I never did give you an affirmative whether or not I disposed of the body,” Beyond pointed out. “Although if you had pressed me on it, you would have known that I did.”

            “ _Then what the fuck is this_?” Matt stressed, rising from his prone position shakily and nodding towards the rather gruesome display beside the milk and eggs.

            “Oh,” Beyond hummed with an idle shrug. “That’s new.”

            “Why?” Matt whimpered. “Why do you do this?”

            “I think you know very well why I do this, Matt.”

            “Because it’s fun for you, somehow,” the redhead filled in. “I am living in an absolute madhouse.”

            “You know most folks might take that comment as being defamatory.”

            “Good thing you’re not most folks.”

            “You are finally coming to see my true colors,” Beyond returned dryly.

            “Yeah, pretty sure I saw them after the _first_ time you left a dead body in our dorm,” Matt groaned, daring to take another peek at the disembodied head occupying the top shelf. “You are so replacing the food in here.”

            “Why?”

            “Because I don’t want viscera with my corn flakes, Beyond!”

            “It’s not that messy.”

            “I don’t care.”

            “Look, I even put a cookie sheet under it.”

            “That was for baking pizza.”

            “It’s done a wonderful job of keeping things tidy.”

            “I’m never eating pizza again.”

            “Well that’s a shame.”

            “What’s a shame is that there is a human head in my refrigerator!”

            “I consider it more of a surprise.”

            “ _Beyond_ ,” Matt scolded, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

            “Well, judging from sporadic years of therapy and personal introspection, I would deduce it to be some combination of early emotional child abuse and the emergence of antisocial personality disorder. I mean, I certainly exhibit a disregard for and violation of the rights of others, especially in regards to their mortalities. In addition, my apparent lack of a moral conscious in conjunction with what the DSM describes as a –.”

            “Okay, okay, forget I asked,” Matt groaned, carding a hand through his bangs. “Go ahead maestro – tell me what your grand plan is this time.”

            “Well, you see,” Beyond mused, tilting his head childishly, “I wasn’t entirely certain if you would be able to join me or not so I already took precautions to disassemble the corpse.”

            “Disassemble?” Matt repeated flatly. “Isn’t that kind of… messy?” he winced. The look evanesced into a frown. “Wait. Where did you have room to ‘disassemble’ a body? I swear to god if you say the bathroom –.”

            “Not enough room in there,” Beyond interjected with a wrinkle of his nose. “I need more space to work than that; nothing an industrial storage shed and some plastic sheeting can’t fix.”

            “Where do you even get the money for this kind of thing?” Matt scoffed. “Aren’t those kind of expensive to rent out? Do you even _have_ a job?”

            “Inheritance,” Beyond answered simply.

            “Right…” Matt pieced together. “Because your family is –.”

            “Dead,” Beyond finished placidly.

            “You know what, I don’t even want to know,” Matt resolved, shoving his hands into his hoodie. “You might as well go on.”

            “I was thinking that given the nature of Victim Number Six’s current state, we could bury the parts in three separate bags in different locations. I’m quite fond of the lake area, so I was thinking of arranging the burial sites in the tree line beside the shore. To make it more interesting, I thought we could choose locations in correspondence to the time of death – 6:23 AM – by setting it up like a clock face: with due north as 12 o’clock we bury the bags at 2, 3, and 6, respectively. It’ll be kind of like a treasure hunt.”

            “Oh,” Matt enthused. “Goodie.”

            “Yes, I’ve given it a bit of thought,” Beyond nodded seriously. “I figured it was about time that I actually poured some effort into these things.”

            “It’s just not murder if it’s half-assed,” Matt sighed.

            “I get the sense that you are mocking me,” Beyond said archly.

            “It’s alright, B,” Matt expressed, “This is what I do for rent money now, apparently.”

            “So good that we could come to an understanding,” his roommate grinned, climbing out of his chair – hands still sticky with jam – and crouching beside the couch, pawing behind it to where several lopsided trash bags had been stashed.

            “In the living room? Really?” Matt groaned, sauntering over to assist. Smothering his revulsion, he hefted one of the bags, stomach flopping at the wet noises it produced. “Can we load these into a box or something?” he asked weakly. “I don’t want them leaking in my car.”

            “The laundry basket should do just fine,” Beyond mused. “It’s wheeled and everything.”

            “No,” Matt returned flatly.

            “It’s a washable material and it has a zip-closed lid,” Beyond reasoned. “By all means it should make for the ideal conveyance.”

            “I…” the redhead faltered. He couldn’t exactly argue with that, and, besides, replacing the hamper wouldn’t be of too much a detriment. There was certainly no way he’d be loading his clothes in it any time soon, after all.

            Without saying much more he headed for his room, upending the hamper and sending dirty clothes spilling all over the floor. He kicked them aside and wheeled the soon-to-be corpse container back to where Beyond was waiting patiently. He hoped desperately that the body wouldn’t leak or smell on the blessedly short elevator ride to the parking lot below the building.

            “I’ll grab some towels,” Beyond murmured, allowing his roommate to do all the heavy lifting.

            “What?” Matt frowned, trying to touch the garbage bags as little as possible. “Why?”

            “To put on top,” Beyond answered obviously. “The only thing more suspicious than carrying around garbage bags is carrying around garbage bags in another container. This way it will just look like we’re taking a load to the laundromat.”

            “Shouldn’t we follow that up with _actually_ going to the laundromat?” Matt queried. “I mean, it’s only good if the alibi checks out, right?”

            “You’re getting good at this,” Beyond praised, dumping an armful of laundry atop the macabre contents.

            “Yeah, yeah,” Matt waved off unhappily. “I’ll go bring the car around.”

* * *

          Matt sat atop an immobile dryer, swinging his legs in boredom and waiting for the wash cycle to finish. He had a paper to write by the morning and as much as he loathed the process, he was eager to get to work. Or be anywhere but in a dingy laundromat with his murderous roommate. But it _had_ been his idea, and frankly if he wanted to remain a free man it was a sacrifice he was going to have to be willing to make. It was becoming increasingly worrying how much potential legal trouble awaited him somewhere down the road and Matt only hoped he could plead coercion or insanity.

            Beyond, meanwhile, sat cross legged on the floor across from him, idly flipping through his phone and without an apparent care in the world.

            “How are finals looking for you?” Matt spoke up, determined to distract himself from his anxious thoughts.

            “Promising,” his roommate replied, gaze still affixed to his screen.

            “What do you mean by that?”

            “I’ve put in a lot of effort this term,” Beyond answered mysteriously, “So I’m expecting a high return as far as grades are considered.”

            “Do you even study?” Matt posed, trying to think back to any time he saw Beyond get up to anything remotely scholarly. It didn’t help that the other man spent a majority of his time holed up in his room, but Matt always got the impression that he just liked his privacy. He’d certainly never heard of Beyond meeting up with any study groups or seen him head to the library – and it wasn’t like the dorms were the most peaceful place to study, either.

            “Of course I do,” Beyond returned. “I suffer from insomnia so it’s not like I have much else better to do at five in the morning.”

            “Save for the obvious,” Matt muttered darkly.

            “No, no,” the other corrected. “I like to save that for after I’ve had my morning coffee – it helps me think more clearly.”

            “I’m not entirely sure if you could call what you drink ‘coffee’,” Matt countered, “Not with the amount of milk and sugar you add.”

            “I notice you’ve been drinking a lot more coffee lately,” Beyond replied instead. “Any reason as to why?”

            “Not getting much sleep.”

            “Something keeping you up at night?”

            “Gee, I wonder what?” Matt scowled. “Not to mention, I’ve got three finals on the same day to prepare for, one the next, and a fourteen page paper for the last one. I’ve been more than a little stressed lately.”

            “Well I certainly hope our little trips are relaxing for you, then,” Beyond smiled vacantly.

            Matt didn’t deign a response.

* * *

          The redhead peered down at the form before him, carefully checking the graphite-filled bubbles for discrepancies. It was his last final for the day – eighty questions in total on a simple scantron sheet. He had written down his answers on the test itself before transcribing them to his answer form and with as delirious as he was feeling he wasn’t entirely certain they had been copied correctly.

            _‘Well,’_ he inwardly sighed, _‘I guess this is as good as it’s gonna get.’_

            Shaking the nerves from his body he rose to stand, tucking the swing out desk to the side of his seat and promptly gaining the attention of most of the students in his row. He shot them a nervous smile as they returned to their tests, no doubt wondering how he had finished so soon.

            _‘I totally fucking bombed this, didn’t I?’_ he thought manically as he quietly made his way to the front of the classroom. _‘I’m never getting out of this hellhole. I’m going to be in student debt for the rest of my life.’_

            He tried not to think about how plausible it was that the rest of his life could be either very short and violent or spent behind bars in a vibrant jumpsuit.

            Handing the form off to the professor he exited the room, exhaling once the door closed behind him and reclining against the wall. A few students who had finished before him were eagerly exchanging answers nearby, faces contorted with nerves. Matt didn’t have the energy left to consort with them.

            He slipped his phone from his pocket, checking the time and his e-mail before tapping out a text to Mello.

 

**[7:48 PM] Matt:** done w/ my last final

**[7:48 PM] Mello:** About time! You’ve been in class all day. Annoying as hell.

**[7:50 PM] Matt:** i mean same im not thrilled either

**[7:53 PM] Mello:** You gonna be online later? Miss you xoxo

**[7:55 PM] Matt:** wow mel gettin all x rated up in here

**[7:56 PM] Mello:** You should probably kiss me more often, that’s all I’m sayin.

**[7:57 PM] Matt:** noted

**[7:58 PM] Mello:** But you didn’t answer my question. You gonna be online or not?

**[8:01 PM] Matt:** still have to study for tomorrow

**[8:01 PM] Matt:** eh fuck it y not

**[8:01 PM] Matt:** dont really wanna go home tho

**[8:03 PM] Mello:** You can always FaceTime me. It’ll be a sexy date. ;)

**[8:04 PM] Matt:** o yeah nothing like sexting from the dining center

**[8:05 PM] Mello:** Wow. Exhibitionist.

**[8:07 PM] Matt:** haha

**[8:07 PM] Matt:** yeah but b is home so i dont really wanna b there

**[8:07 PM] Matt:** i just want this semester to b over

**[8:09 PM] Mello:** It’s only until tomorrow, right? What’s the worst that can happen? Then you’ll be home free and on your way to me.  <3

**[8:10 PM] Matt:** dont jinx it

**[8:11 PM] Mello:** I can always sic my boys on him.

**[8:13 PM] Matt:** u kno my feelings on that

**[8:15 PM] Mello:** Yeah well if he gives you too much shit don’t be afraid to ask.

**[8:16 PM] Matt:** ok

 

            Not knowing what more to do, Matt set off for his dorm, dreading it with every step. Beyond had been in a rare sort of mood that he didn’t know how to properly interpret. He seemed some combination of giddy and stressed, which, knowing him, didn’t bode well for the living. Matt couldn’t help but think that his own time was drawing to a close.

            _‘This is it,’_ he thought with sinking emotion. _‘I don’t think I’m going to make it back home. Mello better fucking play Queen like he promised.’_

He snuck a final glance at his phone, noticing there was one unread message.

 

**[8:19 PM] Mello:** Be safe, okay?

 

            Matt’s heart broke.

            “Well,” he spoke grimly, “No time like the present.” Determinedly he swung open the front door, greeted at once by the sight of Beyond crouched over their kitchen table, a disembodied limb flopping over the side. Bits of blood and hair were spattered around it, sticking unsightly to the sleeves of Beyond’s hoodie.

            “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Matt yelped, stepping in quickly and securing the door behind him. Flipping the lock he dropped his bag, choosing to pace frantically about the entryway. “Beyond, man, you’ve really got to fucking stop. This is getting out of control. It’s BEEN out of control. I can’t keep fucking doing this.”

            “Doing what, Matt?” Beyond asked, owl-eyed but otherwise unperturbed.

            “ _Bringing dead bodies into our dorm!_ ” Matt enunciated in staccato. “How the absolute fuck do you even get them _in_ here without anyone noticing?”

            Beyond said nothing in his defense.

            Matt pulled short, frowning hard at the dirty linoleum. “Okay, no really,” he paused, “How do you get them in here? You don’t have a car and if you were killing them in here then there would be way, way more clean up to do. Also that would be too suspicious, even for you. You can’t just very well drag a corpse across campus and you’re not stupid enough to forget that there are security cameras in the elevator.”

            Beyond watched him wordlessly, a bloodied finger toying with a stray bit of bang.

            “Beyond?” Matt growled, heat churning in his breast. “What the fuck is going on?”

            “What do you mean, Matt?” the other spoke at last.

            “This isn’t adding up,” Matt hissed, striding over to the table and leaning dangerously across it. Beyond was inches from his face but Matt was too tired and too resigned to his own death to care any longer. “What. Is going. On?”

            Beyond cracked an odd smile, returning to the forgotten limb and running his hands meticulously over it. Matt withdrew slightly, watching with interest as the pressure Beyond applied to the wrist caused a small dribble of blood to leak out the exposed end.

            It was then that he noticed the bottle.

            “What’s that?” he asked flatly.

            “Liquid latex,” Beyond answered calmly, applying what appeared to be a yellowed polish to the finger nails.

            “Liquid…?” Matt repeated, jaw set. He exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes closing as the weight of the implications crashed heavily upon him. “Are you telling me?” he grit out. “That all of this time. We have been burying. _Fake. Bodies._ ”

            “Are you impressed?” Beyond returned hopefully.

            “FAKE BODIES?” Matt screeched, eyes flying open. “Are you seriously fucking telling me that you dragged me into a fake god damn homicide case and let me lose sleep and sanity alike for fucking… _laughs_!?”

            “Remember that time I insinuated that you _were_ a psychological experiment?”

            “Yes?”

            “That’s because you were a psychological experiment,” Beyond finished blithely.

            “What.”

            “You see,” Beyond hummed, setting aside his instruments and resting a chin on a stained palm, “All of this time rooming together and you never bothered to ask me what courses I was taking. If you had, you would have known that I signed on to be a teacher’s assistant for this term’s forensic psychology class, which I aced last year. You also would have known that I’m finishing up a minor in theatre, something that has been a personal interest of mine since high school. Especially prop work.

            “Well,” he continued, noting Matt’s murderous glare, “I realized that I could combine my passions and came up with a wonderful little experiment. My professors all agreed that it would be ‘fun’ and ‘educational’, and we even got the forensic science students involved. As you can imagine it worked out rather well for multiple departments: I would concoct the bodies in my spare time, create a murder scene and a recovery scene for the scientists, which in turn created a profile for the psychologists, and then, when that was concluded, I would get back my props and turn them in for credit for my theatre course. We even had a few students volunteer to pose as the ‘victims’ – they needed the extra credit and I needed the models, so it went much more seamlessly than even I anticipated.”

            “Then what,” Matt pressed, “The hell. Was the point. Of involving _me_?”

            “Oh, yes, that,” Beyond nodded thoughtfully. “Well, see, I had a term-long paper I had to write for a social psychology course and I thought I would investigate the relationship between perceived power, obedience, and stress. You could say that I drew a lot both from the Stanford Prison Experiment and Milgram’s Study of Obedience. Unsurprisingly, the more I worked to coerce you, the more stress responses you emitted. What was interesting, however, was how those symptoms of stress manifested and what seemed to abet them, which, almost paradoxically, seemed to stem from listening to an authority figure – me. Now a case study is hardly grounds for theoretical advancement, but if replicated –.”

            “Beyond,” Matt snarled. “You have approximately one minute to make yourself scarce.”

            “But what about the –?”

            “Don’t care.”

            “You know I completely intend to give you a full disclosure statement about the deception employed in this study?”

            “I am going to need therapy for the _rest of my life_ ,” Matt snapped.

            “I would be happy to direct you to a –.”

            “Get. Out. _Now_.”

            “I really should be finishing that paper –.”

            “Tick tock, Beyond,” Matt seethed. “Or I think I really will kill you. Unsurprisingly I can think of a few good places to bury you – and I don’t even need the practice.”

            “Practice?” Beyond asked nervously.

            Matt grinned, enjoying the taste of the words he’d heard repeated to him: “Makes perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man I've been wanting to write this fic for a long time! I really love the interplay between Beyond and Matt so it was super fun to write. That said it's been a LONG while since I've written for Death Note, so hopefully everyone was in character.
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Ches


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